Hey, sorry I didn't come to see you last night. I had to go to my sister's house with only an hour's notice.
Oh, why didn't you tell me you were Amish?
Huh? What are you talking about?
Well, since the only possible reason you could have failed to call me was because you couldn't get to a phone, I figured that only the Amish, who have no phones, would keep that from happening.
Look, I didn't have your number.
Holy shit! When did the Amish ban paper and pencils?!
Look, I'm sorry, I just really don't want to get into a relationship with you. You're not my type at all.
Ohhhh, right, so your type is either a marine who could care less about you, yet you still pine after him constantly...
Or a complete fuckhead stoner who drives a beaten up pickup truck, dumps you, and now you're trying to beg him back again, yet he just wants to fuck you?